


Someone to Remember Him By

by AshaCrone



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Canonical Character Death, Content warning: mentions of abortion, Intersex Omegas, M/M, More tags to be added, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse Typical Dubcon, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24804364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshaCrone/pseuds/AshaCrone
Summary: Since puberty had made Fjord's life a living hell, he had hidden away, every year, to be miserable in private. Then the explosion happened, and he had assumed that his heat had been skipped for that year.Then he absorbed the cloven crystal, and his heat came out of nowhere.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord (endgame), Fjord/Lorenzo, Fjord/Mollymauk Tealeaf
Comments: 34
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for not-explicit rape, implied child abuse, typical ABO fuckery, and some sweet sap, angst, canon character death, mpreg, intersex omegas
> 
> Written as a self-fill for the critical role kink meme, like a lot of my fics are. Hope you enjoy!

The heat had crept up on him as they left the swamp to head back to Berleben. 

He hadn’t expected it. His heats had been pretty regular, ever since the first one at the orphanage. Once a year, usually at the end of summer.

He’d been due for one, in fact. Right before the explosion. He had been getting ready, nesting as best he could. Vandran had known and had been indulgent when it happened on board ship, letting him hide away in his quarters so Fjord could be miserable in peace. Most years, it wasn’t so bad. They were in port, and Fjord would just rent a room with a sturdy door, drink himself into a stupor and hope no one found him.

He had tried to hide the parts of himself that he could; chipped away at his tusks, filed his talons down to nubs, kept his speech careful… and kept everyone at arm's length.

Granted, privacy was at a premium on board a ship. But with a mixed sex crew, people usually stuck to their own business. 

But the explosion had happened. And Fjord had just assumed that he had his heat, or the stress made him skip, and had let people make whatever assumptions they had wanted afterwards.

It was easy to allow. 

Except that he could remember one night, Jester asking him if he was a boar.

He had blinked at her. “What-” He had been called all sorts of names growing up, but from _Jester_ of all people-

“She wants to know if you’re like Oskar,” Nott giggled, already tipsy and swaying off the bench. “From _Tusk Love_.”

Fjord gaped at her. “I-”

“Ah, I see,” Caleb answered, not looking up from his book. “You were raised among humans, weren’t you? It’s a toss up with half-orcs. Orcs don’t have sexes quite like we do. Or rather, they have them, but they’re determined at puberty and through combat. So boars are orcs who are powerful, dominant, have a bulb at the base of their-”

“That is _way_ more than I wanted to know-” Beau interrupted, and Fjord silently cheered her on.

“And then the sows are orcs who are not as dominant. They either lose the fights among their peers or willingly forgo them. Not a bad strategy, because they usually live longer than the boars, even with the stress of child-bearing.”

And Fjord was staring, feeling his chest squeezed as he tried to wrap his head around this. Thankfully he was saved by Caleb continuing on-

“Half-orcs follow either that or the human pattern, which is why we meet female half-orcs, and why women as we know them have shown up in orc tribes.”

“Ah, yeah- yeah, that’s me,” Fjord said, keeping his face straight. Jester pouted; she seemed to have really wanted him to be… whatever that was. Nott was drunk and almost dancing on the table. Beau was staring at Caleb, and Fjord could only half-hear what she was saying (something about ‘You got off to anatomy text-books as a kid, didn’t you?’) and Molly-

Molly had a flagon in front of his mouth, watching Fjord fight not to squirm. 

And it seemed that a drunk Caleb would not _stop_ oversharing, because he brought up goblin reproduction next: now everyone knew that female goblins had branching uteruses, and would often have two different babes of two different ages quickening at the same time. 

Nott shrieked, tried to empty her never-ending flagon, and left the taproom to go upstairs.

Which had lead him back to now; overall he had felt… nothing, in particular, after having absorbed the orb. Nothing strange. 

The swamp was hot, humid- there was a reason for the sweat under his armor. His belly ached, but he had taken a few blows… they hadn’t had supper yet…

By the time they had gotten to their inn, he realized what was happening.

_Fuck._

He decided to sleep in the water.

~*~*~*~*~

// _He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak- helpless in a way he hadn’t been before. Before, he had always had his works. Then he had the falchion. Now, he had nothing. Now he was tied up, in a cage, weak and unable to move._

_The brutish human figure, called Lorenzo, was kneeling in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jester try to flail and scream; Yasha tried to spit._

_He couldn’t bring himself to move._

_He couldn’t make himself do anything. “Two divine bloods and one half beast,” he heard the figure, Lorenzo, say with a chuckle… before leaning into to scent him. “Three new breeding bitches. Toss them in with the others. Our cages are at capacity now.”_ //

~*~*~*~*~

It would take another day for the worst of it to take effect. For now he just was hot, sore, and cranky, and-

“Fjord, sweetheart, are you _sure_ you want to take the floor?” Molly asked, and he blinked at the tiefling, sitting on the bed, eyes narrowed in concern. “If it helps, I _promise_ I won’t molest you in your sleep.”

Fjord sniffed; his sense of smell always got stronger right before a heat, and the stench of mildew and rot was overpowering. Molly smelled… well, he _knew_ what interest smelled like. But-

“Don’t think I won’t charm you for your own good,” Molly threatened. “And you look like shit.”  
Fjord almost growled. Almost, because he never growled, because that would just be letting people think he was the monster they saw. He couldn’t do that.

He couldn’t be less than human, even if he was a half-orc.

“I’m fine-”

Molly sighed. “Have it your way-”

He didn’t feel it, this time, but was feeling so out of it he didn’t know if he would. Instead he just gave in and laid down on the bed without protest.

“Now, you have to tell me what’s going on,” Molly answered, sitting beside him. Cool fingers brushed his forehead, and he heard the tiefling swear under his breath. “You’re burning up.”

“Do I have to?” Fjord muttered. “It’s embarrassing.”

“You can be embarrassed once you’re well.” Fjord didn’t react when Molly gently brushed his hair off his face. “This isn’t normal. I really should be getting Jester-”

“No- no-” he didn’t want her to see. To _know_. He liked being her knight in shining armor, even if he was playing pretend. “It- this is.” He took a deep breath, let it hiss out. “It’s… it’s normal. I’m- please don’t tell anyone.”

Molly’s red eyes fixed on him. “I’m a master of secrets. I promise. Nothing leaves this room.”

“Fuck… I’m… starting my heat.” He could feel his body temperature still ratcheting up; his skin felt dry and tight, his stomach was churning as something inside him swelled and ripened. Getting ready to quicken. He prayed to anyone who would listen that the sweat and slick wouldn’t start until later. As much later as he could get.

There was silence for a few moments. “So, what Caleb said about half-orcs-”

“I lied.”

The fingers in his hair kept stroking. “I thought you had. You looked pretty spooked. I wasn’t sure about what, but, well, it wasn’t any of our business anyways.” He sighed. “So… what should we do for you?”

Fjord shuddered. His first fear had been that Molly would offer to ‘help’ him, like some of the other sailors had. ~~Like Sabian had.~~ That he would be taken out and humiliated when he was weak as a newborn kitten and his senses so swamped that he couldn’t tell what the fuck was happening. 

“Most times,” and his accent wobbled, had a stomach churning moment because he _couldn’t be sure_ \- and hoped against hope he had kept his voice as Vandran’s- “Most times, I find a room with a sturdy door for a day or two, drink myself into a stupor or find a potion and try to sleep it out.”

“The smut books didn’t really cover this part,” Molly said softly. “So you want us to leave you to it? We can take an extra day. How aware are you?”

“Not a lot. Usually hurting too much.”

Molly’s eyes narrowed. “We can find something for the pain. But what about the whole, um-”

“Not keeping my legs closed, a little slut?” The Asylum nurse’s words echoed in his ears. Childhood bullies surrounded him, taunting and urging each other on as he struggled under- no. Not now. Don’t go there now. “Turning into a whore?”

Molly’s fingers tightened. “The hell? Who told you- your accent changed, Fjord. No, goddamnit. You aren’t bad for wanting sex, and just wanting sex doesn’t mean anyone has to right to-” He choked. Fjord thought he saw his other hand clench in the scratchy wool blanket. “That’s- I’m going to get something for you to drink. You’re burning up.”

Fjord closed his eyes; the mattress rocked and the door opened and closed. He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, Molly was there again, urging him up so he could put a flagon to his lips.

“Drink up.”

Given how his stomach had churned, he was surprised to find himself able to drink most of it without throwing it back up. “Now- I made some excuses that you picked up something in the swamp.” Molly had put one of his hands behind Fjord’s back, and he was starting to shiver and lean into him; the warm radiating off Molly’s body drew him in. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

Fjord looked at him through bleary eyes. “Shouldn’t that charm spell have worn off by now?”

Molly bent his lips upward. “It would if I had ever cast it.”

Fjord flipped him off, curling in tight as he started to shake. “Fucking hell, Molly-” He looked over in time to see the small smile vanish off his face. 

“Now, this can’t be-”

“One of the bad ones,” Fjord muttered. He hated when the shakes started. It usually meant a blur of the next day. “But it’s normal.”

More swearing. “Can I touch you? I mean, it would have been _lovely_ to know that this was coming up so we could, possibly, have found a safe place and how to prepare and-”

“It’s late. Was due just before. The explosion.”

Molly pursed his lips. “All right. I’m glad you’ve kept talking to me.” He felt his warm body against his back, while lips that seemed impossibly cool were against his forehead. “This is awful. Can I take your clothes off, so I can get you into- no, that’s not coming out right. Can I put you into bed and get your armor off so you’ll be comfortable?”

Fjord tensed, braced himself, and nodded. 

To his shock… Molly just helped him out of his armor. No unwelcome touches. No mockery. Just brisk, business-like actions and then Molly settling down beside him in the bed, sans boots and coat. 

Usually the most clothing Molly, at best, would wear to sleep was his underwear-

“I’m not sleeping in the water, Fjord,” he said, drily. “But I’m not touching you unless you _want_ to be touched, you understand?”

Fjord nodded. He was wrapped up in the blankets as Molly curled up next to him. “You need anything, let me know, okay?”

Another nod, and Molly settled down to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

// _The silence ached._

_The lack of sound meant his mind was filling in the gaps; he thought he caught the sound of Beau calling his name, of Molly’s soft endearments in his ear. But nothing. Just empty, constant silence._

_It almost wept when he could hear again._

_His legs were a knotted mess as he was dragged out and marched to another set of cages, collapsing a few times before he was pulled to his feet and shoved somewhere else. He looked over to Jester and Yasha, both of them staring at him in the dark._

_Around them were sobs, muffled cries, the smell of piss and fear._

_They were there maybe a short time before one of their captors swung free the door, and looked at the three of them with speculation in her eyes._

_“Well, bitches, who is going first?”_

_He hadn’t been able to act before, and he was exhausted- but he could do this. He struggled upwards to his knees, throwing himself bodily between his friends and their nightmare._

_“Well. Always nice to have a volunteer.”_ //

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was their last night in Hupperdook and the Blushing Tankard.

Fjord swallowed hard, watching Molly as they dragged themselves back to their room; exhausted, injured, but- successful. 

They had managed to keep those kids out of an orphanage, reunited a family, and found a good place for Kiri.

All in all… things felt good. They had done good. The fights had been rough, but they had succeeded. 

And he was trying very hard not to watch Molly with naked hunger.

Molly had been the one to finish off the construct, and… Fjord had the awkward task of walking out of there with soaked underwear and trying to hide his erection. Not that he didn’t have experience- his heat had made awkward moments like this happen every year since… He shoved that thought down.

Molly had sat down on the bed, and glanced over, eyes meeting his. They locked, and Fjord was the first one to break, looking down. 

“You feeling better?” he asked. 

Fjord flushed. “Yes.” He fidgeted with the cord on his armor, trying not to stare at the ink and scars visible underneath Molly’s shirt. “Just…”

“I thought your heat was over?”

Fjord shook his head. “Should be. Right now I’m just-” 

Molly's mouth twitched into a tired smirk. “Got some steam to blow off? See something you like?”

Fjord opened his mouth and closed it, before nodding. Molly had helped him through his heat; water, towels, making excuses for him to the others when he needed more time alone. He hadn’t laid a hand on him without permission. Helped him keep things under wraps. Left when Fjord had been too embarrassed to get himself off with an audience. Had stayed, when Fjord had asked for help.

And now he was trying not to squirm. 

“I told you, not touching you until you can use your words,” Molly reminded him, eyes dancing with amusement even as they blinked in exhaustion. “Want something? Ask for it.”

“You helped me before. But you didn’t even get your dick wet,” Fjord said, feeling his pussy clench as Molly stroked himself through his pants. “Maybe-”

“I didn’t. But this isn’t about me. I _would_ like fuck you. Your pussy was so _soaked_. Tasted so good. Getting to watch your face-” Molly licked his lips. “Tell me what you want.”

Fjord bit his lip. Took a deep breath. “I want you. In me. Your cock. It- it's safe. I want you to come inside me.” It came out in a rush, whispered, almost inaudible. 

Molly put out his hand. “Come here?”

He did. 

~*~*~*~*~

// _”Well, look here,” Lorenzo said, as Fjord was dragged before him. “Pretty little sow, aren’t you? Cute piggy.” He grabbed Fjord’s face. He was about to try to spit, but_ -

 _“Now, now, now- you want your friends to watch as I breed that cute little hole of yours?” A cruel smile crossed his face. “Because I sure as hell will make you watch as I put spawn in their bellies if you don’t behave.”_ //

~*~*~*~*~

He took Molly’s hand, let himself be drawn into Molly’s lap, mouth, lips, tongue meeting and melting together with a groan. They fumbled free of his armor, scattering it across the floor and letting himself be pushed back onto the bed. 

He let himself touch; plucking at Molly’s linen shirt, hands stroking his hot skin, his scars and tattoos, his lithe muscles. He shivered as Molly kissed down his neck, brush over his collar bone, find his tits-

// _his pants ripped, flung over a table_ \- //

He came. He felt his face heat as his cunt pulsed, clenched on _nothing_ , just from Molly touching his nipples.

Maybe he wasn’t as over his heat as he had thought.

“I am _so_ happy I’m getting to do this to you,” Molly purred. “You are so sensitive.”

Fjord breathed hard, wrapping his legs around Molly’s waist, tangling his fingers in Molly’s hair. “Been awhile.” 

Another kiss. Warm, callused hands dragged the skin of chest, belly, thighs, and propped himself up on one elbow to take himself in hand. “Hope it’s worth the wait.”

Fjord closed his eyes as he felt the head of Molly’s cock at his entrance, then mewed ( _mewed! Fuck!_ ) as he slid home. 

Molly swore as Fjord clawed his back, infernal crackling the air as his first few thrusts were slow, before finding a rhythm. 

Fjord let himself get caught up in the feeling of being stretched, filled up, of Molly’s scent of spice and smoke, the ache of his spread legs and the heat between their bodies. Of the building knot of pleasure just under his navel. 

“Oh gods you feel good,” Molly said, kissing him again. “Nice and wet for me-” Fjord couldn’t stop himself from mewing again, panting as Molly moved over him. “You like that? Like hearing me tell you how good you are?”

Fjord hissed, opening his eyes to Molly’s red ones, and nodded. “You are,” Molly went on. “You’re warm, and handsome, and-”

~*~*~*~*~

// _”Damn whore,” Lorenzo growled. Fjord flinched, anticipating the blow that cracked across his face. Then cruel laughter. “No wonder that stupid little demon-blood fought so hard. He already bred you up. Hm. I’m curious to see what comes of it._ //

~*~*~*~*~

He came again, listening to Molly’s whispers, kissing and pleading with him for more. And Molly kept touching him, stroking his dick and groaning. It wasn’t long before Molly spent himself, and Fjord purred at the feeling of extra, sticky mess inside him. 

“How was that?” Another kiss. Nose to nose. He loved Molly’s eyes. “Was it what you wanted?”

He kept his eyes there. He didn’t want to let this moment go. Didn’t want anything else to interrupt-

~*~*~*~*~

// _“I like sows. They breed fast. Six months and we’ll see if this little spawn of yours is as stubborn as its sire.”_ //

~*~*~*~*~

He focused on the details. On Molly. The scent of the night, the cold autumn air, of setting up camp and enjoying the moment. Of embarrassed flirting and touching. Of awkwardly sneaking out to the woods and taking Molly in his mouth, Molly covering his mouth as he turned him onto his hands and knees.

A little embarrassed, later, to go on watch and feel Molly’s spend still leaking out, just a little, and Yasha giving him a sly smile as he went on watch. 

“I’ve not seen Molly this cheerful in a long time,” she whispered. “I’m glad for you.”

He almost opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again when Jester came out, and conversation turned to what they had done in Hupperdook. 

Things seemed to really be looking up-

~*~*~*~*~

// _He was thrown back into the cell, bouncing off the stone._

_He hurt. Gods, he hurt. He could see Jester’s eyes, but Yasha was no longer there. Anguish stabbed through him, as bad as the pain radiating from his belly and groin. He had hoped to put off their tortures, at least for a night._

_No words were spoken. None could be, with their gags. But in his mind, echoed Lorenzo’s words. Demon spawn, already inside him._

_The stubborn demon-blood from earlier._

_He was already pregnant… and it was Molly’s. That- that shouldn’t have been possible._ //

He forced himself back into that moment. His favorite. In Hupperdook, Molly’s smaller body sprawled across his own, his cock going soft inside him but not pulling out just yet. Pleasant exhaustion soaking his limbs and belly, soft aftershocks of pleasure making him gasp whenever Molly moved. Fingers in his hair, sweat and scent all over him.

He clung to that thought, to the comfort of it, to hoping against hope that the others would come for them. 

And when at last, they did… 

Molly wasn’t there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have Molly's POV on events.

That Fjord didn’t even bother to fight him when he offered the bed let Molly know something was _really_ wrong. Not even a spell. Just the suggestion. 

That was really, really messed up. 

“Do I have to?” Fjord said, voice a soft whine after Molly’s prompting. He sounded miserable. Molly, despite himself, started brushing his forehead, and promptly pulled his hand away. His skin was scalding; even with his own resistance to fire it was uncomfortable. “It’s embarrassing.” 

It was a little _too_ easy to pry information from Fjord when he was like this, and Molly felt a bit guilty to use whatever this was to get some information out of him. So he didn’t bring up the orb and that weirdness. Instead, he focused on the fact that Fjord was ill. 

He hadn’t really thought about a reason for why Fjord was so skittish around sex and sexuality; it had just been funny to get him flustered. He had figured that Fjord was just someone who had a prudish background. Now… he started to get the impression that there were other reasons. 

“How long has this been happening?” he asked, after returning to Fjord with something to drink and a handful of towels. 

Fjord had just looked at him, eyes unfocused with fever. “Started this afternoon.”

“No- I mean, how long?”

“I was… eleven, the first time?”

That was enough to make Molly freeze. “You’ve been going through these since you were a literal child?”

“Half-orc.” Sweat was pouring off his face. “We grow fast. At least, that’s what the Nurse said. Told me… be careful.” His voice trailed off. “She was nearly out of penny royal and wild carrot seeds. Might not have any for next year.”

“I think there’s a lot of people in Port Damali I need to visit,” Molly answered, bloody vengeance on his mind. Fucking hell, Fjord, he didn’t say. He couldn’t do anything about it now. Just keep Fjord comfortable. “So… every year since you were… a child?” He nearly choked on the words. 

“Yeah.” 

Fucking hell. Fucking _hell_ that filled in just enough gaps for his imagination to run wild.

So he left to make excuses. Fjord had been pretty adamant about Jester not seeing him like that; as much as he hated to do it, he recruited Beau for help to keep her distracted. Thankfully, Beau did understand that sometimes you had to lick your wounds in peace, and didn’t come after either of them. Instead she cut Jester off and kept her busy for the rest of the afternoon. Afterwards, he had gotten Fjord comfortable and out of his armor, without making more panic or nerves.

That night though… Molly laid down, stretching out, sighing at how warm he was going to get in his clothes, but he was not going to touch Fjord in any way he might not want tonight. At all. 

The decision was quickly taken out of his hands, when in the middle of the night, he was enveloped by an affectionate green octopus. He awoke to Fjord’s face buried in his shirt, one leg flung over his while he started grinding against his thigh. Heat leaked out to soak Molly’s trousers. From the way he sounded, he was close to coming. 

He bit his lip, thought hard of mucking stables, and woke Fjord up.

The sheer embarrassment radiating off Fjord as he tried to fling himself off the bed made him regret his actions. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he reassured Fjord, keeping his voice soft. 

“You’re fine. It’s ok.” He didn’t touch Fjord. Not yet. “You… I guess you’re feeling pretty needy right now, right?”

The panicked look on Fjord’s face killed his half-chub. “No, I’m not- I’m not going to fuck you.” He relaxed. “But- I’ll leave if you need to get off, or you can use my thigh again, or I would be honored to use my hands and mouth on you. I won’t put it in, though. And I won’t do _anything_ until you say it.”

And that was how he wound up sleeping in the taproom that night, which was drier than the room itself.

It was their last night in Berleben, though, and they were able to move on. Fjord was able to keep himself on an even keel during the day, though, even with Molly watching him like a hawk. It wasn’t until that night in their shared tent that he had nearly fallen apart. 

He had asked, voice a low hiss of desperation, to help him get off. Molly, nodded, and gestured to Fjord to come to him, offering his thigh- Fjord straddling it, grinding down, covering his own mouth to stifle the groans. 

“Can I hold you?”

Nod. Fjord’s eyes were closed, but Molly took the permission to curl around his wider shoulders. Stroke his hair while Fjord’s hips moved. _You poor bastard. I can’t remember anything, but this misery you’ve had your whole life…_

Fjord kept moving against him, but stopped, hissing to himself and lashing out to claw at the dirt under them. “I can’t- why can’t I-” 

His voice was different again. Molly didn’t really recognize the accent; but he did note the desperation. “Let me know what you need.”

Fjord bit his lip. “Your- your hands? I need something inside me.”

Molly took a deep breath. Stay calm, ignore that the handsome orc was asking him to touch him; focus on the friend-in-need. “Take off your pants?”

There was a look of fear on Fjord’s face as he looked away, and moved to comply. It made Molly’s chest clench. “I’ll do my best to pay attention, but I’m not a mind reader. Something doesn’t feel good- not bad, just _not good_ \- say something. I want you to feel good, Fjord. I know this isn’t something you’ve chosen, but I don’t want to touch you in a way you don’t like.”

Fjord’s expression eased, just a bit, and he nodded, as he finished shimming out of his pants. 

Molly was grateful for his dark vision as he let Fjord go to reposition himself. Had the circumstances been different, he would have been chuckling wildly and thanking the Moonweaver for the feast. He mentally smacked himself. 

He had seen Fjord naked in the baths before; with a jolt, he realized that Fjord had to have been concealing his bits with a spell. He swallowed down another wave of pity.

What he found was a nice cock, if a little smaller than what the illusion had hidden. He could imagine a good ride, if Fjord was ever interested in being on top. 

His hole was cute as well, small and tucked away behind his non-existent balls. He couldn’t tell if it was flushed, because of the dark, but the lips were lush and wet, a faint shine in the gloom. He brushed his fingers along the seam, before sliding in, then two fingers inside. 

He looked up in time to see Fjord covering his face to keep quiet, but he twitched and rocked, soft gasps and hitched breathing telling him when he found his g-spot. Molly felt himself smiling as he leaned down to take the head of Fjord’s erection into his mouth. The result was Fjord swearing before stuffing his fist between his teeth and clamping down.

He slipped in three fingers, four- he found himself smirking, remembering Caleb’s description of a boar’s cock, and carefully worked in his thumb-

Fjord came. Then came again. Molly shuddered; he was achingly hard in his pants as he tried to swallow. He was pulling away when Fjord came for a third time, barely missing his face. 

It didn’t take much more to wring out a fourth orgasm. Molly had never thought he would be envious of orcs but if their refractory period was this short-

Fjord relaxed into the blanket below him, and Molly crawled back up to check in. “Good for you?”

There were teeth marks on his hand, but nothing broke the skin. “Yeah,” he breathed, and Molly felt a little smug at the dazed, well fucked expression. While he knew that this was something Fjord didn’t like, he had to take some pride in making a lover-

He winced. Fjord _wasn’t_ his lover. Fjord was some bastard who had a condition he was helping with. This was temporary, this was for someone who had been hurt in ways he didn’t want to imagine, this was never going to be for him.

Speaking of which. He got to his knees to leave. 

“Where are you-”

Molly brushed his hands over Fjord’s cheek, and leaned back, his dick tenting his own pants. “I, ah, need to take care of something.”

Fjord’s eyes went wide. Molly hid his cringe- he didn’t want to frighten Fjord- when a hand was on his shoulder. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Not sticking it in-”

“No,” and now Fjord was flushed. “But- but you shouldn’t have to- I don’t mind if you-”

Molly’s eyebrows went up. Fjord had usually gone out into the hall or hidden whenever Molly had shown even a hint of skin. “You…” He realized he was palming himself, feeling his erection get harder in his hands. Gods, Fjord was _pretty_ in the afterglow. “Don’t mind?”

Fjord nodded, swallowed. “I can… help.”

“You aren’t obligated.”

“I want to.”

~*~*~*~*~

It had been about a tenday, when Molly woke up in his tent, reached out to touch Fjord’s shoulder… only for his hands to touch empty blankets.

Molly found himself frowning; Fjord was already up? He liked to sleep just as much as Molly. Gone for a piss, maybe?

But the blankets were cold. Fjord’s body was a furnace, and Molly had been looking forward to arguing over who would be the little spoon last night. Maybe tease him a bit before drifting off. He could still smell Fjord on his clothes. 

He laid there, not quite awake, telling himself it was nothing. That nothing was wrong. Maybe Fjord had just gotten up and was giving the last person on watch-

Wait. He was meant to be the last person on watch.

He sat up, hearing Nott call for Jester. Beau calling for Yasha. He clambered out of his tent, looking around. They all surged into a panic, trying to find their friends- the realization that Yasha and Fjord had been caught, that Jester had likely been there because of her big ol’crushie on Fjord- and found a dwarf instead. 

There was a rush to head off the kidnappers- the Iron Shepherds- and he found himself chafing, chomping at the bit.

They had to wait a night. 

Taking watch with Beau was not his idea of a good time. 

He tried to distract her with cards, but-

“So. You and Fjord,” Beau asked, after a moment of her staring at his cards and refusing to take one. 

“Is now the time or place?”

“Can’t think of a better one. Because otherwise we’ll not talk to each other again. So- you know that Jester’s in love with him, right?”

Molly’s tail curled around his leg. “I know. She can thank me for breaking him in for her.”

Beau glared. “Really. Not cool, man. She really likes him.”

“I’m not denying that. But Fjord asked me for help with a problem.” He rubbed his chin, staring into the fire. Beau had helped run interference earlier- “Did you end up reading _Tusk Love_ , too?”

“Eh, no. Too much dick for me.”

Molly snorted. “Fair enough. But I know Jester talked your ear off about it.” He dropped his tone. “Fjord… he’s not like that. He’s- remember what Caleb said? About the-”

“No-” her eyes went wide. “Fjord? Really?”

“Makes some sense, doesn’t it, though? He’s always been squirrely about certain topics.”

“And you got _no_ sense of boundaries,” Beau chimed in. Molly acknowledged this with a nod. 

“But he went into heat last week, which is why-” And he saw Beau wince. He tried to be as detached as possible while explaining, keep out the more graphic parts. “But he did mention that this had been happening since he was a child.”

“Wait, what?” Her face went pale. Because she was able to fill in the blanks as much as he did. “I think-”

“Want to join me in setting a lot of places on fire?”

Her face had pinched, cheeks flushed with rage. “We can agree on that.” She paused. “But that’s a nice distraction. You going to back off after we get our friends back, or what?”

Molly opened his mouth- then closed it. “I suppose it depends on Fjord. If he is in love with Jester, I won’t stand in his way. I… I like him. But sex doesn’t make a relationship and whatever this is, has just started, and I was convenient.”

Beau sighed. “Sounds like Jester’s not the only one with a crush.”

Molly looked down at his tail, which was laying across his lap now. “In the circus, we took care of our own. That’s all.” He didn't really want to keep Fjord. Did he? 

“Uh-huh. Right.”

Molly took a deep breath. He had to stay focused for the ambush and the fight ahead. 

He pulled out his deck. “So, the best lie you ever told…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More from Fjord and the fallout afterwards


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: mentions of abortion
> 
> Reuploaded because I realized a massive chunk was missing. WTF Ao3?

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had been tossed back into the cell with Jester; he tried to check if she was okay, but she was curled in a ball. Humming to herself. He did his best to curl up with her. All he could offer was warmth, and hoped that they would put off coming for her as he slipped into oblivion.

He did hear their captors’ snarls of frustration, mixed with pained grunts, and he prayed to whoever might be listening that Yasha was knocked out quickly. He didn’t want her to linger in pain. He closed his eyes, hoping for his own oblivion, and wasn’t quite sure when it came.

“Fjord is also tied up bad,” he heard Jester say later, as the world swam in and out of focus, and two faces appeared.

Jester, and Nott, both looking at him. 

There was a panicked edge to Jester’s movements, before she shrieked in pain from her own sore muscles, and Nott could be convinced to take off his gag.

“Fjord, are you okay, are you injured, did they cut off your thumbs?” Nott asked, even as she smiled a little- and to his surprise, Jester swatted her. 

“Yes, he’s injured! This really hurts!” She was crawling over on her knees, a little frantic. “They took you, Fjord-”

He had hoped she didn’t remember. He could feel Nott’s eyes, taking in everything; he just hoped she didn’t notice the torn clothes. Or thought they had been damaged in the fight. Their armor had been taken, and left only in what they wore beneath. Maybe she would think it was torn when they were taken.

“We got our thumbs.” He winced at the sound of his own voice, harsh and raspy from his aching throat. “Does anyone see Yasha?”

“They dragged her out after they took you.” Jester put her little hands on his face, and the places inside him that had ripped and bled eased, along with a dozen other aches in his muscles. Not gone, but he could walk. Maybe.

He struggled to his feet, and offered Jester a hand, as Nott skittered off to look for Yasha. 

“Did they…” he wasn’t sure how to phrase the question as he stepped forward, trying to find their friend. Did they hurt her, like they had hurt him? Asking would admit it. And not yet. 

Not yet.

They found Yasha in a nearby chamber. In the dim light, he saw that she had been through six kinds of hell: bruised, bloodied, her skin punctured by hooks. Jester made a small sound as she moved out from under his arm, and he caught himself on a nearby wall as his knees tried to buckle. It didn’t look like they had… taken her, the way they had with him. Her clothes were still intact, at least.

A large hand caught his elbow as Fjord swayed and he lost track of the conversation around him.

“Not a drop,” the big figure said, as Fjord looked up; he wasn’t used to looking _up_ so much.

He watched as Jester cast her healing magic on Yasha, after the tall pink… person, who was bracing him, stood there silently.

He heard himself ask about what happened, who had helped them. Everything was through a dense fog, and he felt like he was sailing his body like it was skif in a strong current. The big person with the pink hair that was holding him up was named Caduceus. Shakäste had been there. Another person like Caduceus, named Nila. They had come in and saved them.

He looked around. Through his fog, he wasn’t sure what was missing. The numbers were all wrong. Nein weren’t nine but ten and now nine but something was missing. 

Someone was missing.

“Is the room… clear, did you take care of… all of… them?” he said, and winced as he tried to keep walking towards the others. He was sure that Jester’s magic had sealed the damage, but his thigh and groin muscles were still jelly. Just a few days before, he had felt a shy, silly naughtiness about having Molly’s seed still inside him, back when he had thought he would have time to clean up and maybe make out with his… friend… when he woke Molly up for his watch. 

He could still feel- he cut those thoughts off. 

“Where’s Molly?”

And just like that, his thoughts, such as they were, capsized against the rocks.

“Oh, your friend.” 

Caleb whispered. “Jester…”

The words twisted around him, sinking into the floor at his feet as Jester’s panicked “Is he upstairs?” rattled down his spine. 

He was cold. So damn cold. After the fucking _heat_ that had eaten him alive for the past week, his belly felt cold. 

Beau crossed his line of vision. She was facing Jester, her eyes made contact with Fjord’s. “He didn’t make it.”

“To this dungeon?” Jester’s voice was flat, disbelieving. “Because he’s upstairs?”

Beau kept eye contact with Fjord. “He didn’t survive the trip. I’m really sorry.”

Fjord hadn’t let himself grieve for Vandran. Not really. He hadn’t just lost his Captain, either. He had lost the people he had lived and worked with for years. He had bottled it up, hid his tears, tried to find out what had happened. He had awoken with the falchion and powers and he had managed, somehow, to keep his head above water and-

“Was that when we heard you guys-”

Had he heard them? The silence spell had made him think he had imagined everything. But they had. He had heard Beau scream Molly’s name, hadn’t he? He had thought he was going mad. 

He wasn’t sure when Beau had gotten there, but she was now at his elbow, and putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“We are sorry. We tried our best, but it wasn’t good enough.” The contrition in Beau’s voice was painful.

Nott was quick to add, “He tried his best. He got up right in Lorenzo’s face but he just wasn’t strong enough.” 

And then Lorenzo had taken him. Used him. Said he had smelled Molly’s-

Fjord forced the thought down, again. Rubbed at his eyes, hoping that no one noticed how wet they were. Jester didn’t bother; he could hear her sobbing. 

“We got cocky,” Beau went on. Trying to take some of the blame. 

“It’s not your fault.” Fjord was pretty sure it was his. He had let himself feel comfortable. Relaxed. ~~Happy. He had felt safe in Molly’s arms. For the first time since the explosion.~~ He should have been strong enough to protect his friends, his crew. 

Jester was talking about killing everyone. 

“They were a nasty bunch,” he tried to add. “Lorenzo was not what he seemed.” Not if he could sense that he was already… but he could be lying. There was no reason for him not to lie to Fjord about that.

But- “ _Fuck_ ,” he swore. They looked at him, and he said it was his fault. Because it was. Because he had let himself enjoy- to be the degenerate, freakish _slut_ the nurse and the orphanmaster had called him, taunted him with- he should have known they were there. He shouldn’t have been distracted, remembering Molly’s taste and smell, imagining their next round of canoodling. He should have let Molly go, after his heat had ended. 

Then maybe he wouldn’t be gone. 

“It’s no one’s fault.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Beau looked bitter, and even he could tell she was blaming herself. “I was lying.”

He zoned out for another moment, until he heard someone ask Jester about what they were going to do with them. 

“Breed us. They said they were going to breed us,” she said, after a moment. “He seemed really interested in having two… divine bloods.”

Beau turned sick, glancing at the three of them- Fjord, Jester and Yasha. “To who- to what-”

“Lorenzo seemed interested in-” and here Jester choked, and she turned her eyes from Fjord. “They wanted to break us first, though.”

“Oh geeze. Oh gods. Did they-”

_Please, Jester, don’t tell them._ “They were trying to break our minds, first. They started torturing Yasha, but- I don’t think they had gotten started on the… other part, first.”

“That’s why they had you all here? Breeding stock?” Nott’s voice went even higher than normal. “We saw blood, was that-”

“Fjord threw himself between me and Yasha,” Jester said. “Fjord, I heard you, Lorenzo was-”

_Fuck. No._ “I guess they started on Yasha once they were done with me.” He closed his eyes, and hoped that Jester would take the hint. The hand on his elbow tightened, as did the one on his shoulder. He was glad he couldn’t see anyones faces; he didn’t want to know if they bought the lie or not.

“Fuck, you guys. I am so sorry,” Beau hissed under her breath. 

He had put his hands over his belly. He wasn’t even sure why. Because Lorenzo had to be fucking with him, right? “I don’t even know what to say,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Well, that piece of shit is dead. All of his cronies are dead,” Beau added, her grip on his shoulder making the bone creak. 

Fjord found himself buried, again, sinking into the muddied waters of his own thoughts, before the Summer’s Dance was thrust into his hands. 

“He would have wanted you to have this,” Beau said. He wasn’t even sure where she got it from. 

Memories sprung up, despite himself. Watching Molly care for it, watching him mediate, use his own sword spells. His fingers curled around the hilt of the lovely weapon; it suited Molly so well. The hilt was cold. ~~And Molly had always run so warm. He had been a warm weight on him, in him, made him feel like he was worth _something_ even if just for that moment-  
~~  
He broke eye contact with her, only for Beau to put a hand on his chin, and bring his eyes up. “Really, Fjord. You meant a lot to him.”

He nodded, grasping the hilt fully, words of thanks for all of his friends on his lips. He didn’t deserve them. That they came to his rescue was humbling. If he wasn’t dying right then, he could have appreciated it.

There were more words: talking about what happened, the fate of those involved, that it would take some time for Yasha to get up. Thankfully, Jester didn’t mention the Iron Shepherd’s intentions again. ~~He could feel their eyes. He _hated_ that he could feel their eyes on him.~~

He wanted to get a bath. He wanted to attune to the sword. He wanted to-

“Fjord, how do we know you haven’t been turned?” Nott said, with a snicker. “How do we know they didn’t seduce you to-”

He stumbled back, shaking his head, and Jester got between them. “No- no, Nott. This- not right now. This isn’t funny.”

“Get us the fuck out of here,” Fjord choked. “Please.”

There was silence for a moment. “There might be a place around here where you can wash up,” Caduceus said, slowly, and kept his grip on Fjord’s elbow. “We cleaned out all of the Iron Shepherds, so it should be okay. If not a bathing room, we can heat some water up in the kitchen.”

Fjord nodded, not looking up at the tall newcomer again. 

“Fjord, should I-”

“I wouldn’t, Jester.” It was Beau who spoke. “Just… let him wash up, okay? We can meet up again when you’re done and we can talk.”

“I’ll bring some hot water down so we can clean up your other friend,” Caduceus said. “You and I can help with her so we can give Fjord some privacy.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Fjord saw the others nod. With that, he was steered out and up some stairs, past a dwarven woman smoking a cigarette, and Shakäste with a group of other prisoners on their way out. 

It didn’t take too much longer for them to find a bathing room, after going up a few floors. He tried not to think that this was the direction they had taken him before, so that he could be used by Lorenzo. The bathing room itself was right after.

There was some odd machinery and what seemed to be a heating charm on a large wooden bathtub, connected to a pump. Without a word, he and Caduceus started filling it, and found some buckets. 

“I’ll take this downstairs once you’re in,” he said quietly. “I know some medicine, though. Would you like me to check you out before I go? Jester- her name was Jester, right? She did some healing, but it won’t… fix everything. I can make some tea that… would make sure Lorenzo didn’t… leave something behind.”

Fjord stared, for a few moments, and shook his head. His first impulse was to lie, to deny- but-

“He didn’t.” Fjord touched his face; Jester’s healing had already cured the black eye from the blow. “He was kinda pissed off about that. I think.”

Caduceus pursed his lips but nodded. “You’re certain? You aren’t obligated to put yourself through that.”

“Trust me. I’ve-” and he licked his lips. “I’ve been…in trouble, before. I usually keep a supply on me for emergencies. I’ve never gotten as far as quickening.” His shoulders rose and turned to knots as he spoke. “I’d rip Lorenzo’s spawn out of me with a piece of wire, if it came to that.” His hands, despite themselves, rested over his belly. 

Caduceus nodded. “It won’t come to that.”

“How could you tell that I-”

“Jester said they wanted to breed people. While there were others here, I can’t imagine another reason they would want such a small half-orc.”

Fjord winced, and hugged his chest, cold humiliation rushing down his throat to mix with the glass already there. 

“I think I’ve got enough hot water to wash your friend,” Caduceus announced, abruptly. “And you’re lucky, you know, to have friends who love you so much. I didn’t know the friend you lost… but it sounds like you two had something.”

And he had to say _something_ to _somebody._ Because it was eating him alive. “We- we could have. Maybe. I don’t know. He helped me when I- I needed help. We pissed each other off. He liked teasing the hell out of me. But.” He looked away, and hoped that the other man wouldn’t linger long. “But I miss him. I knew him for… maybe a month, now? Just a bit more? I-”

It seemed absurd, now that he said it. 

“I’ll leave you alone for now, Mr. Fjord. Take all the time you’ll need. I hope we can camp here for the night. The fight was rough, and your friend is still unconscious. Your friend Jester implied she would be for some time.” Fjord nodded- they had all taken beating after beating, on top of the… other tortures. And then knocked out if there was even a scrap of consciousness left. 

He nodded to Caduceus as he left, and sat down on the floor beside the tub, the sword in his hands. 

The Summer’s Dance wasn’t quite as long as his falchion, but it was a gorgeous weapon. He closed his eyes, focusing on it. Remembered the jokes about him swallowing the Waste Hunter Blade… he had to twitch. Because the hilt turned warm in his hands and it was hard not to- hard not to _remember_ touching Molly’s… other… sword.

_Use your words_ , Molly had reminded him, when he had tugged him out to the woods. He made the joke, almost tripping on his own tongue. _I want to swallow your sword._

Molly had been forced to muffle his laughter with a sleeve. 

He wasn’t sure how long he was there, before the Summer’s Dance faded away under his hands. He opened his eyes again to find tears covering his face, the sword gone, and the water going cold. He got to his feet and disrobed, grabbing a bucket to sluice off, scrubbing off the sweat and blood, trying to clean himself out.

Lorenzo had to be lying. Had to be. It had barely been a few days, his heat had been over for nearly a week. He wouldn’t actually feel anything move- quicken- for months, if he actually was with child. 

The smart thing would be to go ahead and take Caduceus’ tea. Or use his own supply of herbs. Answer the question with a definitive _no_ , he didn’t need this. He had known Molly for barely a month. ~~Molly, who had made him laugh, and helped him feel good, for the first time in years.~~

This was not the time or place. He was trying to find out what had happened to Vandran, who was sending those dreams, what that crystal had meant. ~~Why his heat had started, almost as soon as he had touched the damn thing.~~

He sank into the water, and sat in it until it went entirely cold.

~*~*~*~*~

Caduceus came back to hearing them interrogating Jester on what happened.

Given how badly Fjord was hurt (and how he was trying he hide it) he wasn’t surprised by the story that Jester was telling. 

“Are we going to stay the night?” he eventually asked. “Everyone’s pretty beat up.”

They eventually agreed to it; Caleb had learned a new spell that would allow them to sleep safely, even if they did happen to still be in an enemy keep. There was a deep sigh of relief. 

There was a mildly silly dialogue between Jester and Nott about eye contact and cuddling between Fjord and Jester. Jester was clearly only going through the motions, though Nott seemed to be enjoying the humor, even if it was at Fjord’s expense. The young tiefling woman seemed thoroughly depressed, actually. He could only imagine: seeing your friends hurt, trying to keep you safe, had to be horrifying. 

“I brought some warm water, if you want to use it to wash up a little. I thought I would give Fjord some privacy. Your friend here- she’s a bloody mess, and no one wants to wake up to that.”

“I’ll help you,” Jester was quick to offer, and Beau joined in. Caduceus eventually had to go find another bucket of hot water, this time from the kitchen. The warrior woman slept on; while he went to make her comfortable, Jester (with Nott and Beau’s help) cleaned herself up.

After that, he made his way to the kitchen again, offering to make dinner before they bedded down for the night. It was there that he found Fjord, sitting beside a cup of… He sniffed the air. 

“Pennyroyal?”

Fjord nodded, not looking at him, before lifting his cup and downing it in one gulp.

“Let me know if you have any side effects,” Caduceus said, as Fjord got to his feet to leave. “And if you want someone to talk to.”

Fjord looked over his shoulder. “Thank you. I’ll be fine.”

~*~*~*~*~

Fjord felt a sense of relief settle through him as he drank the tea, and walked out into the cold stone hall, to take his own turn searching the place.

_**PUNISH.** _

The word echoed up from depths of his mind, echoing through his ears. Nausea rose up to hit him, making him drop to his knees against the floor tiles, the tea he had just drank spewing out of his mouth and nose. He coughed, gagged again, and if he had eaten anything within the last day it would have come up as well. 

“What? What do you want?” he gasped- it was a voice he had heard before, but never while awake.

_**DEFIANCE. PUNISH. GROW.** _

He shuddered, a vision of the crystal inside him- not his chest but-

_**FORGET.** _

_**FORGET.** _


End file.
